


Animal -ist -ic

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Animal Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Newt's always dashing off to look after his creatures, even when it's terribly untimely. Percival adores him, but he needs some way of keeping Newt's attention where it should be, and if that involves risqué animal costumes and a healthy heaping of atavistic aggression, well, so be it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkmeme prompt [here](http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1891744#cmt1891744):  
> If a creature so much as blinks oddly, Newt darts off to check on them. Graves loves that he cares, but he starts getting jealous as it keeps happening - at dinner, when talking, in bed... In a somewhat sarcastic attempt to keep Newt's attention, he decides he needs to be more like the creatures. 
> 
> Cue Newt arriving home to:  
> Graves on all fours.  
> Wearing a tail butt plug, enchanted to twitch / move in a way Newt would recognise.  
> Enchanted furry ears to match.  
> A refusal to talk except in growls/whimpers.  
> Nips, licks and bites.  
> A more carnal, animalistic attitude to taking his lover. No non-con/dub-con, just Graves putting his desires first and using his strength/power to keep Newts focus where it shold be.
> 
> Anything else the author wants. I've tried not to be too prescriptive on which animal/creature Graves chooses so authors can amend as they wish. I just want Newt turned on by Graves animalesque actions and both realising they want to do it again.

"Sorry - sorry, Minty's just got a touch of conjunctivitis, she needs eyedrops every hour - "

Percival sighs and closes his eyes, pressing his face into the curve of Newt's neck. Newt pushes a little harder at his shoulders. "You couldn't have told me this _before_ you started kissing me in the doorway?"

Newt flushes, biting his lip, and Percival badly wants to pull him back into a kiss despite all protests. "I - I didn't quite realise - "

Percival gives in to Newt's next push and steps back. At least he can take some comfort in the way Newt's flush has spread down to his neck and the way he has to adjust his pants as he straightens. "Thank you, Percival," Newt says, a little formally, and Percival rolls his eyes.

"Maybe once Minty's not sick," Percival says to Newt's retreating back as he dashes away to his case, though he's not holding out much hope. It's not every time, but Newt falls over his feet to care for his animals - Newt's rolled out of bed at three in the morning because Pickett was looking a little wilted, or skipped out on a dinner date because a grindylow was making an odd sound, or once, very memorably, pushed Percival's mouth off his cock because the Niffler sneezed.

It's part-and-parcel of dating Newt Scamander, Percival knows, but it does get... exhausting. He sighs again, dropping his forehead to the wall; he's even tried tying Newt to the bed to keep him there, but Newt's worry about his creatures was so terrible Percival had to let him go. Honestly, the only way Percival would be able to keep his attention is if he were a creature himself. He huffs a laugh at the thought, thinking of dressing up as a werewolf or a vampire or something absurd - like an erumpent; Newt would probably do that bizarre mating dance and expect him to do the other side.

It's a silly idea, and Percival puts it out of his mind.

But the next time Percival finally manages to coax Newt into bed they are literally mid-fuck when Newt's eyes widen - not in a good way - and he cries, worriedly, "Dougal!" Percival groans - also not in a good way - when Newt takes his hand off Percival's cock and slides out from under him, leaving Percival's ass bereft and empty, leaking lube and pre-come. Percival twists to see Newt heading for Dougal standing in the doorway; the demiguise is, for some reason, completely white. As soon as Newt gets in reach of him, Dougal darts away, and Percival sighs as Newt's bare backside disappears down the hall.

He looks down at his own neglected cock, already starting to droop, and flops on the mattress, burying his face in the pillows. By the time Newt comes back half-an-hour later, Percival's rolled over to stare blankly at the ceiling; Newt sidles in, still naked and with a heavy dusting of white in his hair, and says awkwardly, "Sorry - I think Dougal got into the flour."

"You have some in your hair," Percival tells him, and Newt pinks and runs his hands through it. It just spreads more evenly, and Newt gains a light speckling of white on his shoulders.

"Um. Sorry."

"You're a menace," Percival says to the ceiling, and then looks at Newt, shifting on his feet and looking miserable. "Oh, come here."

He holds out his hand and when Newt takes it, pulls him back onto the bed. Percival rolls half on top of him, throwing an arm across Newt's chest and pressing his nose into his hair. When he breathes he gets a noseful of flour and he has to turn his head away to cover his sneeze as annoyed, he banishes the lot with a little more violence than necessary; Newt's laughing silently, his chest moving under Percival's ear when he drops his head back.

"I really am sorry," Newt says, quieter now, and Percival sighs and leans up to kiss him, chaste.

"Just - stay here for a while," he says. "Please."

He gets six whole hours of blissfully quiet sleep before Newt has to go check on his animals again, and that's about par for the course.

But it does make him wonder again what it might take to keep Newt's attention, at least for a bit. Percival finds himself reconsidering the ideas he's already discarded when he's three glasses of wine into the bottle he set out with their dinner, only still warm thanks to heating charms. Percival's so used to it he's brought his paperwork home, but he still finds his mind drifting to possible creatures he could dress up as, if only for a pointed joke; anything in Newt's case is out, as is anything too obscure - Newt will want to know where he learnt about it, or possibly hop on the next ship out to wherever it lives - or too common to catch Newt's full attention. He's still thinking about it when Newt comes back home two hours later, charmingly dishevelled, flushed and apologising as he talks about hinkypunks along the river, and Percival can't really find it in himself to feel more than completely, absurdly fond.

And, well, Percival's father always liked to repeat that adage, "If something's worth doing, it's worth doing well." Percival thinks he wouldn't really appreciate that effort going into Percival and Newt's sex life - the one time he'd brought Newt home, it'd been a delightful few hours of Newt babbling about creatures and his parents' increasingly flabbergasted faces, his father staring at him as though Percival could be blamed for Newt's entire existence after Percival had given Newt a very long, very thorough kiss goodbye - but, Percival thinks philosophically, it can't hurt to try.

The ears were easy enough to charm, the tail considerably less so, and Percival's still unsure any of the information he looked up about behavior, mating or otherwise, applies at all, but he's come this far already and it's too late to give up now. If anything, at least Newt will get a laugh out of it, and Percival's dignity has been in tatters since Newt first stood him up on a date and Percival accepted his apology two days later before Newt even opened his mouth. Percival doesn't have particularly much to lose. 

The mirror says doubtfully, "I don't know where you're going with this look, dear," when Percival attaches the ears to his head, and he makes a face and charms it silent as he considers his hair and lengthens it a bit. He's got a days' worth of stubble on his face and, in his own opinion, doesn't look ridiculous just yet - though that'll change once he puts on that tail.

Percival ambles to the bed in no particular hurry. Newt said he'd be home an hour ago, which means Percival probably won't see him for at least another, possibly two; it gives him plenty of time to strip down and stroke his cock a few times, eyeing the tail he'd transfigured and the size of it down to the base. It's nothing absurd - Percival's not particularly masochistic - but he lies back on the mattress and takes his time with a lubrication spell, fingering himself slowly open.

Percival's feeling rather good about the whole thing once he finally pushes the plug in, clenching around it reflexively when the angle hits his prostate and sends a lovely spark of pleasure straight to his cock. He rolls over and rises to his feet, enjoying the way the shift of it feels inside him, and gives the tail a side-eye stare when it twitches, reacting like an extra limb.

He charmed it that way, but it's still strange, and Percival laughs at himself when he drags his hand down the fur of the tail, the feeling an odd shiver across his skin. He's gotten worked up far too early, he thinks, but then the outside door opens and closes and Percival feels a frisson of anticipation run down his spine.

Newt's voice comes from the entryway: "Hello? Percival? I'm sorry, there was a - " and Percival, calculating an angle of attack, tries out a low, rumbling growl. It vibrates through his chest and he's rather pleased with it, particularly for the way Newt's voice pauses for a moment, and then he says, more tentatively, "Hello?"

By the time Newt rounds into the hallway Percival's ready, and he pounces; Newt's knocked back to the floor, the fall softened with cushioning charms, and Newt says, "What - " and then, on a laugh, "Percival?" as Percival clamps his teeth on his neck, crouched over him on all fours. Percival lets another growl roll through him and Newt stills, still biting back a smile as Percival scents him, dragging his nose from his ear to his throat and breathing in the smell of him, animals and grass and rain.

"What - did you make those?" Newt says, scrambling to sit up, but Percival rumbles a warning and shoves him back to the carpet, clawed fingers digging into his shoulders. Newt mumbles, "Well, there's no need to be rude," and Percival bites reprovingly at his jaw, tearing Newt's shirt apart with a satisfying rip of cloth and nosing at his shoulder, then tasting his skin with long, slow brushes of his tongue. Newt shivers gratifyingly, baring his throat.

That, Percival decides, deserves a reward; he licks up Newt's jawline, nips at the tip of his ear, drags his claws oh-so-gently down Newt's skin, enjoying the way Newt's breath catches in his throat. Percival's head dips lower, and he laves attention to Newt's nipples as he catches his claws in Newt's pants, licking and nipping at his skin until Newt's squirming and gasping underneath him, hips rocking up. "Percival - you - "

He tries to sit up again, and Percival growls, low and gravelly, reverberating in his chest. Newt freezes when Percival latches his teeth into his shoulder, and Percival huffs a laugh he can't hide into it as Newt slowly relaxes, baring his throat again. "Honestly," Newt mumbles, a flush high on his cheeks, and Percival drops his head to nose at Newt's cock covered by fabric, licks at the seam of his pants and bites at his hip when Newt gasps.

Percival's transfigured claws make quick work of Newt's pants, too, and he nips at Newt's thigh, licks a long, wet line up his flushed cock as Newt whines in his throat, his legs falling apart. Newt's hands fall to Percival's hair when Percival laps at his cock, in long, measured strokes, his tongue swirling around the head, and enjoys the way Newt shivers and moans, his fingers brushing Percival's ears; the sensation makes Percival's arousal spike and he shudders for a moment, burying his nose in Newt's thigh. "Percival," Newt says, "is that - a tail?" and he leans forward, reaches out for it. Percival can feel it twitch, his ass clenching around it, and when Newt touches the tip it's a nudge that sends sparks of pleasure up Percival's spine and straight to his aching cock.

Newt's expression shifts to mischevious delight as he tweaks Percival's tail, and Percival wants to push him down, fuck him until he's gasping and writhing and not thinking of anything else at all - and now he can. Percival smirks at him and shoves him back, claws digging pinpoints into Newt's shoulders and Newt bites his lip and stares at him, pupils blown wide as Percival lines his cock up with Newt's ass. He licks a hot, wet stripe up Newt's ear, and Newt rolls his hips impatiently. "Yes, all right - come on - "

Percival pulls back just enough to glare at him playfully as he casts a lubrication charm and shoves himself home. Newt's half-formed laugh is knocked out of him, stolen from his chest, and Percival only gives him a moment to adjust before he starts fucking him in earnest, Newt's breath coming out in panting, shaky gasps. Percival relishes in the familiar tight heat of him, Newt's overwhelming responsiveness; Newt whines and squirms and presses back against him, manages, breathless, "Percival - fuck - please - "

And in the face of him, Newt's face flushed pink and his eyes wide and dark, Percival has to lean forward and kiss the words right out of his mouth, lick at his teeth and slide their tongues together, taste him and capture all the lovely sounds he makes to swallow down his throat. Newt lifts his hips, a pleading noise in his throat, and Percival hikes Newt's ankles over his shoulders and presses in, bottoming out in one long thrust that makes Newt cry out, voice cracking on the sound.

The sight, the sound, the sheer encompassing heat of him makes Percival want to savor it, and so he does, fucking him hard and slow and deep. Newt's unattended cock juts between them, flushed and leaking, smearing wet on his stomach and at every thrust Newt jerks and makes a sound, half-aborted, bitten back, lost between his gasps. He tugs at Percival's shoulders, grabs at his hair, and then _tweaks his ear_ \- Percival's growl is more instinct than reason, his bared teeth a threat, and he bites at Newt's collarbone hard enough to bruise as Newt whimpers and rocks into him, the long line of his throat exposed. 

Percival speeds up then, the thrust of his hips hard and fast and Newt twists his fingers in Percival's hair hard enough to hurt and pulls him down, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he mouth slides hot and wanton against Percival's jaw. Percival bites at his skin, sucks a bruise into his neck as Newt's muscles start to tremble beneath him, keeping up the punishing pace. When Newt comes it's with a breathless moan, a jolt through his entire body and Percival fucks him through it, the clench of his muscles and the spurts of his cock, fucks him until Newt's begging, "Percival, please - " and he reaches out to the tail curled over Percival's hip and tugs - 

Percival buries his groan into Newt's shoulder as he comes inside him, his orgasm hot and overwhelming, his vision still dazzled with sparks. He rides it out, hips jerking, and barely has the presence of mind to push Newt's legs wide before he drops nearly on top of him. Newt, voice breathless and slightly hoarse, says, "Fuck."

Percival makes a sound of tired agreement, turned into something nearly a yelp when Newt tugs at his tail again. "Don't you dare - "

"It's cute!" Newt says, not sounding apologetic at all. "Did you charm this yourself? You were going for a rougarou, weren't you? I think I recognise the shape of the ears - I've only seen them from a distance, though, you know they're rather - "

Percival kisses him to stop him talking, the thought of processing Newt's brand of imparted knowledge right now making him nearly dizzy. "Yes," he says, once Newt's gratifyingly quiet, "I was going for the rougarou - could you stop that?" he says, as Newt tugs on the tail again; Newt's eyes are sparkling. "At least help me get it off."

"Oh," Newt says, eyelids falling half-mast, "I'd love to," and he spends far, far too long dragging his fingers down the tail, then around Percival's hole where it enters him, before he twists his hand around the base and pulls it out with a yank that sends sparking aftershocks of pleasure down Percival's worn nerves; Percival makes a noise into Newt's skin that makes Newt laugh.

He's focusing on untransfiguring his fingernails when Newt, still running his fingers curiously through the tail, says, "Have you thought of a wampus?"

Percival hasn't thought of a wampus. "Are you thinking of a wampus?" he accuses, rising part-way to his elbows, and Newt, unaccountably, blushes.

"Well, it seems like you did _some_ research, I just assumed you considered - maybe a shortlist - "

Percival groans again, this time in mock-despair, and turns his face into Newt's chest. "It'll start with rougarous and wampuses," he says, "and then you'll have me learning a - billywig mating dance - "

"Billywigs don't have mating dances," Newt says, because that's the point he'd choose to argue, and Percival muffles a laugh into his skin. But Newt bites his lip as he runs his hand through Percival's hair, picking off the fake ears and setting them gently aside. "I only thought - well, I mean, you did start it."

"No," Percival sighs. "I did, and it was... strangely enjoyable." Newt's smiling when he looks at him, and Percival can see the increasingly risqué animal costumes in his future already. He leans up to kiss Newt again, slow and lingering, and resigned, says, "What was that about a shortlist?" Newt's face lights up.

"I can draw one up for you - we'll have to take into account alternative physiology, of course, though I suppose some artistic license is necessary..."

Percival lets Newt's voice wash over him, smiling despite himself; Newt's attention, bright and focused, is an absolute delight, and while Percival has no delusions about keeping it on him for any length of time - well. Now he knows what can. He presses an apologetic kiss to the bruises on Newt's skin, already starting to turn red, and Newt pauses and narrows his eyes. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Bed?" Percival says, and Newt eyes the distance between them and the room doubtfully. "I'll Apparate us."

"Oh, all right," Newt sighs, and Percival focuses and pulls them away, location an inch above the mattress; they fall to it with a thump that makes Newt groan. "What brought this on, anyway?" Newt asks, absentmindedly running his fingers through Percival's hair and pressing a kiss to the tip of his ear. "I mean, I - hadn't really thought about it."

Percival can see Dougal staring at them from the hallway, looking vaguely green; he narrows his eyes at him and occupies Newt's attention with another slow, lingering kiss. 

"Nothing much," Percival says. "I just had an idea."


End file.
